


Break

by extremesoft



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bits of angst and fluff and everything, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Smut, every word you can come up with for that, it's 3 and 33 back at it again, tape bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-22 19:06:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15588687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extremesoft/pseuds/extremesoft
Summary: Now Max is willinglyofferinghim that. A chance to regain control, in a way.





	Break

**Author's Note:**

  * For [higgsbosonblues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/higgsbosonblues/gifts), [SenorCasillas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenorCasillas/gifts).



> For one terrible moment last Friday I was unsure whether I'd be able to finish this, or indeed write anything ever again; but luckily (at least in my opinion :D) I was.
> 
> Now these two dorks have been an inspiration to me more than words can describe and will hopefully (and most likely) continue as such, so I wanted to dedicate and gift this fic to two other great sources of inspiration (though your level of dorkiness you may determine yourselves :D ): the honorable higgsbosonblues, for writing the fic that sort of led to this and also asking me in very tiny and timid all-caps to please write Max and Dan tying each other up; and The honorable Dude, for keeping my ability to write (and also maybe silly me) above the surface after the impact. Thank you both; and as always, I really do hope everyone enjoys reading, let me know if that's the case :)

Daniel can’t catch a break.

Come to think of it, Daniel actually feels like he can’t catch anything at all. Race number five in six weekends has come and gone, and with the insane frequency and amount of GPs and how underwhelmingly most of them have gone for him, he feels like it’s not been about him driving the races as much as it has been about the races just crashing over him like waves. Or rather like tsunamis, typhoons of starting lights, revving engines and the smell of burning tyres as well as exhaustion and frustration that Daniel can’t seem to shake.

He’s in desperate need of rest, release; redemption, but different from what winning Monaco had granted him. One race-free weekend in six and a short trip to Mykonos have done nothing much for him, it’s not enough, nothing’s enough, he’d probably sleep for five straight days given the opportunity. But no, the gods of racing - they or his team management - have thrown the dice and decided that it is his fate to test the car on the first Tuesday of what is supposed to be his long awaited summer holiday. He feels like he’s in an endless, narrowing tunnel that both tiredness and restlessness build around him, spiralling out of control, and he frankly gets quite scared when he realizes he’s vaguely wondering whether he’ll crash on Tuesday if he can’t do anything about himself before that.

After races he usually goes to Max the moment the first opportunity arrives. Among other things they do and are they have helped each other to wind down from race weekends for a long time already, and it’s something Daniel has quickly grown to both cherish and need. Sometimes it’s just talking, and kissing and listening and talking some more until they drift off to an unperturbed sleep next to each other. Sometimes it’s heady fucking, their lips crashing together and shirts being torn off before they even get a proper look at each other. Sometimes it’s downing a couple of beers in an infrequently broken silence, either in a small and remote enough bar somewhere or in one of their hotel rooms, accepting what the minibar offers them. They know and read each other effortlessly, there’s the sense of mutual understanding that Daniel knows by now he wouldn’t find with anyone else.

The problem now, though, is that Daniel doesn’t know what to ask for or what can be given to him. He hasn’t got the slightest clue himself about what he wants, let alone what he needs. Apart from sleep, of course, but there’s still way too much adrenaline in his system for anything of that sort. He should probably just go to Max, yeah; but with Max having had to exit the race after only a handful of laps and the overpowering rage that had followed suit, Daniel finds himself being surprisingly convinced that Max is perhaps better off without Daniel bothering him with how fucked up he is.

Daniel gets over himself and saved from hesitating for forever when he’s startled by the short buzz of his phone on the small nightstand. He reaches to his right, not bothering to get up. The message is from Max, who else.  
_do you want to come over?_

Daniel bites his lip and nods to himself, as if someone could somehow see the gesture. He types and sends _yep, i’ll be there in 5_. He rises from the bed with no rush, doesn’t bother changing to anything from the dark blue sweatpants, not just yet anyway; it’s easy enough to return to fetch a pair of shorts should they decide to take a peek at the world outside at some point. Daniel closes the door behind him and heads to the corridor bare-footed since he doesn’t even need to change floors. He doesn’t hear any sounds from Max’s room once he stops behind the door, and an unusually sour smile visits his face as he knocks sharply and thinks that Max clearly isn’t exactly throwing a rave to celebrate the holidays starting himself.

And Max sure looks a bit worn out when he opens the door for Daniel, as if the flames of the earlier anger had consumed him to the bone and then gone out as quickly as they erupted. The light kiss Daniel places on his lips once the door closes behind them quickly deepens into something full of longing as well as the feeling of finally coming home.  
“Sorry I didn’t come sooner”, huffs Daniel as he breaks the kiss and ties his arms tightly around Max for a moment. “I’m, uh, a bit messed up. But you don’t exactly look like you’re farting sunshine and rainbows right now either.”  
“It’s okay”, mumbles Max softly into Daniel’s ear. “It’s not so bad anymore.”  
“So, where’s the party at?” Daniel asks as Max pulls back from him, not really trying to hide the itch inside him, the anxiousness to get going and let himself loose in any way.

Max lets out a small _hmh_ , with the corner of his mouth curving up in a smirk; and Daniel becomes very aware of the somehow out-of-place stillness surrounding Max. He's certainly not giving the impression that they are going somewhere; so okay, they’ll just slouch around Max’s room and get comfortably tipsy there. Great, that suits Daniel as well, almost anything goes as long as it would ease the unease, even only for a second. Good thing he kept the sweatpants on.  
“Here”, says Max, as Daniel expected. Max has probably bought him beer, something other than the one-taste-fits-all stuff they normally find in hotel room minibars. Max turns and Daniel follows him lazily only to realize a couple of steps later that Max isn’t headed to the microscopic fridge. He walks up to his suitcase instead, crouches and rummages through the piles of sloppily packed and unpacked t-shirts and jeans - he is always a meticulous packer in the beginning of a new season, but the further the year passes, the less he bothers with it.

Daniel stops and frowns but says nothing. There is something in the air of the room he can’t place, heaviness that even the air-conditioning working overtime can’t stir.

Max stills and gets to his feet again, back towards Daniel but clearly clutching something in his hand, against his abdomen. Daniel seems to have suddenly lost the use of both his limbs and his words, just following and registering Max’s every movement like spellbound.

Max turns and walks back to Daniel. He is holding something that dimly echoes the lights of the room, something small; and Daniel gets not only positively puzzled but for some reason disappointed when he realizes he's staring at what looks like a completely average roll of black duct tape in Max’s hand.  
“What’s that?” he asks with a sneer, maybe more bluntly than he intended. “You asked me here to tape my big mouth shut and be quiet? Or to help you pack for your holiday?”  
“No”, answers Max with what can only be described as soft steel in his voice, despite his cheeks suddenly flushing bright red. “I didn’t. It’s not duct tape. It’s bondage tape.”

Daniel’s brain halts for a couple of seconds.  
“What?”  
“Bondage tape”, repeats Max, heart racing but unfazed. “It’s for you. To use on me.”

Daniel’s brain still can’t get past the word that started with a ‘b’. “You’re joking” is the only thing he can get out of his mouth, completely gotten caught off guard by Max and still mostly convinced that it’s all about packing something. “That’s from the garage, is it not?”  
“I’m not joking”, says Max with a sense of determination that makes Daniel both even more confused and extremely intrigued. “And I didn’t steal it from the garage. I bought this for you. I want you to tie me up with this. And then fuck me like that.”  
“Jesus- _what_?”

Daniel malfunctions. He's got the vague feeling that _he_ is actually the one who is supposed to be the more determined of the two now, given what Max is suggesting, but right now it’s more like he is too dazed to control even himself. 

“I thought about getting a rope first-” starts Max, knowing Daniel has heard him perfectly well the first time and thus not repeating his words anymore.  
“At _first_?”  
Daniel is torn between every word Max says heating him up and not believing his ears. So what Max means is that he has been thinking about this, _planning_ this, for some time already. Holy shit.  
“Yeah”, Max continues, the expression on his face bordering on defiant. “But I found this quicker, and this was easier to, uh, take with me.”

Daniel is quite sure his jaw is so far through the floor he’ll need an elevator to get it back to its place again once he’s done being completely overwhelmed.  
“How… where did you..?”  
“London”, says Max, giving an answer to the question Daniel can’t seem to voice. “It was fun”, he adds and allows himself to look a bit smug.  
“You’ve had that for… _weeks_ ”, whispers Daniel in utter disbelief. He can’t help the almost primitive reaction of running a hand over his face and stopping it to cover his mouth for a second. Max saying what he has just said and the mental images that instantly fill Daniel’s head make him feel like his whole body is tingling. 

They have touched on the subject every now and then. The two having sex is rarely about the sweet ’n’ slow love-making Daniel always jokes about in public anyway; the pressure of having to stick to utmost secrecy and being fueled by adrenaline more often than not usually results in raw, raucous fuckery that leaves them breathless and their bodies blissfully languid. They have done the smallest things sometimes, out of curiosity and the will to find out how the other likes his buttons to be pressed. Restraining movements, ordering each other around. It usually _is_ Daniel who ends up topping, after all, and he can’t deny that the thought of having his stubborn, unyielding teammate bound in his dominance is the material some of his deepest fantasies are made of.

And now Max is willingly _offering_ him that. A chance to regain control, in a way. Daniel swears the mere idea makes his crotch catch fire; but it also crosses his mind that this is something that must demand an awful lot from the said stubborn, unyielding teammate as well.

“Are you…” Daniel starts hoarsely, his voice faltering and then failing him in his suddenly dry throat. “Are you absolutely sure? I mean-”  
He pauses to scramble through his vocabulary for words. “I mean, hell, I certainly don’t object, but… you’d just let me do that? Sort of… uh, use you?”  
“Yes” is Max’s simple answer. “I wouldn’t do that with anyone else, never, but...”  
He pauses, slightly blushing again as he offers the roll to Daniel, which doesn’t match the circumstances at all yet makes perfect sense. His eyes gleam with anticipation as he looks at his teammate. “Do what you want.”

Daniel swallows hard. He’s already had a myriad questions for weeks on end and now Max has presented him with a myriad more still; but Daniel can’t help the feeling in his gut that Max has presented him with one answer as well. A surge of heat shoots through him despite the toil of the air-conditioning.  
“I _guess_ …”, he starts slowly and grins for what feels like the first time in days, “you’re not talking about taping my mouth shut at this point.”  
A mischievous smile flashes on Max’s face, as if a ray of sun had peeked through a veil of clouds, and he shakes his head.  
“No”, he says and looks back at Daniel, gaze ice blue yet warm. “Do what you want _to me_.”

Daniel looks at Max with sheer unconditional affection before stepping forward and capturing his lips in a needy kiss. Max clenches Daniel’s shirt in his fist, easily opens up for Daniel, lets a moan escape into his mouth; and Daniel isn’t even sure if Max is doing it all on purpose but dear _gods_ how it turns him on. His hands roam the back of Max’s neck, both men gasp for air as the kiss becomes more and more frantic, feverish to the point of desperate-

and then Daniel breaks it, lightly panting already and with a spark in his eyes that Max swears he hasn’t seen there in a while.

“Shirt off”, says Daniel as he lowers his hands and finally takes the tape from Max, and a small step back as well. A questioning look briefly crosses Max’s face and Daniel reads it perfectly right. “Yeah, just the shirt.”  
Max obediently pulls the shirt over his head and drops it next to his feet. Daniel observes the act in silence, shamelessly admiring the smooth skin and toned body and drawing an intentionally sharp breath when he notices how Max’s nipples harden in the cool flow of air. Jesus Christ, Max makes _him_ hard by just existing. He squeezes the roll tightly in his hand, it feels light and quite soft.

“On the bed”, says Daniel and gestures towards the bed with his head. Max bites his lip and nods, trying not to look too excited or eager while definitely being both.  
“You’ll need scissors, they’re in the bag as well”, he says before heading where told. Daniel walks to the bathroom; Max doesn’t need to tell him where the lube is anymore, it’s always in his washbag and the washbag is always in the bathroom. Daniel finds both the lube and the scissors in no time, and he cuts a short piece of the tape, curious. The tape really is rather soft and doesn’t stick to anything except itself, as Daniel discovers while trying to glue the piece to the drag of hair on his arm and failing. He can’t help wondering how on Earth has Max known to look for and get them something like that, fucking _bondage tape_ , as he walks out of the bathroom and back to Max.

Max sits on the edge of the bed in wait for Daniel. Daniel stops in front of him, and Max looks up, his gaze reaching for Daniel’s, he looks beautiful and fuckable and everything at once.  
“On your back”, instructs Daniel while discarding his own shirt. Max does as told again, supporting his weight with his hands as he shifts further back and lies down, upper back against the pillows. Daniel clearly sees that Max is already half-hard; the light-coloured shorts leave no room for imagination whatsoever, especially with Max’s position at the moment. Max must have really wanted this to happen, probably has jacked off to a fantasy about something like this. Daniel tries not to get carried away too far as he tilts his head, estimating where and how he’d like Max.  
“Arms above your head.”  
Max lifts his arms, the backs of his hands coming to rest against the headboard. Daniel can’t help already hissing at the sight, his usually obstinate teammate now spread out in front of him like that, so wanton and willing; but he bites back the words _I’m going to fuck you so hard_ because _not just yet_.

He climbs on the bed and kneels over Max’s chest, Max’s sides between his legs, and places both the scissors and the lube on the wide, sturdy headboard. He looks down and sees Max smiling mischievously and biting his lip, obviously staring right up at his crotch.  
“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, teasing, a grin flashing on his face as well.  
“Enjoying the view”, murmurs Max and moves his gleaming gaze back to Daniel’s eyes again. “You seem to like this.”

Daniel doesn’t answer, he doesn’t really need to, not with his hard-on already spilling the story. He just bends above Max, grabs his wrists and begins rolling the tape loosely around them. A few rounds, not too much but enough to make sure that Max doesn’t accidentally rip the tape apart since he sure has stuck to his gym program, after all. He leaves a small space between the wrists, the tape now serving as makeshift handcuffs; he cuts again, lifts the bundle of tape and hands and begins tying it to the headboard. They are in luck, the headboard is not just a solid piece of wood but it has carvings and holes as well, and Daniel treats binding Max to it like making art, falling completely silent for the moment and his every movement slow and measured. He can hear Max’s breathing growing uneven somewhere below him; and he could have never imagined how incredibly thrilling this kind of thing could feel. Why the hell haven’t they done this before?

He cuts the tape once more, gives his handiwork a couple of tugs and leans back.  
“Try it”, he says to Max huskily. Max jerks his arms, rolls his wrists, and the tape gives a little squeak but holds firmly. Daniel reaches to place the roll of tape and the scissors on the nightstand and the lube in the pocket of his pants, and then looks down at Max again.  
“You okay? Not too tight?” he asks warmly, lowering a hand to reassuringly brush Max’s cheek. Max’s cheeks are tinted pink, lips parted.  
“Yeah, I’m okay”, Max answers, already a little out of breath, making it evident that Daniel is not the only one in the room who enjoys what’s going on. Daniel draws in a deep breath, as if steeling himself; there is no way this is going to be only a five-minute fuckfest. 

Daniel moves back, off Max, and has to stop for a second to take the moment in before he’s able to continue anything at all. The sight of Max bound to a headboard with black tape is _unbelievable_.  
“Spread your legs”, he says, voice low, and swears that just outing the words makes his cock twitch. Max obeys and ups his knees as well, as if he had guessed Daniel’s next command beforehand, and Daniel kneels between Max’s thighs, bending over his stomach. Max’s chest heaves, the heat from his crotch radiates against Daniel’s legs even through the shorts.

“Tell me, Max…” Daniel starts slowly, locking eyes with him. “How exactly did you know how that tape would work?”  
Max’s neck flushes red. “I googled”, he answers plainly; Daniel smirks at him and lifts a steady hand to his chest.  
“You googled”, he teases, slowly sliding the hand over Max’s pecs. “You did research.”  
Max suddenly finds it a bit more difficult to focus on speaking when Daniel intentionally runs his palm over his nipple. “I just thought that maybe we could - mmh - try it out sometime...”  
Daniel’s hand has halted, he’s rubbing the nipple under it lightly with his thumb.  
“Did you watch porn?” he asks, the hushed words pour over Max’s chest like golden honey; and then he ducks down to give Max’s other nipple a lick, making Max inhale sharply.  
“You did, didn’t you”, he murmurs thickly against Max’s skin, not waiting for him to answer. “So, at some point… in recent weeks, or months-”  
He pauses to bite Max’s nipple ever so gently, more just raking his teeth over it than actually nipping, but it still causes Max to squirm, his breathing heavy.

“I’ve seen you on your phone”, Daniel continues, now trailing Max’s stomach with his fingers, “and maybe thought you were on Instagram…”  
Max lets out a moan and jerks his arms when Daniel roughly cups the front of his shorts and edges the base of his palm down his already damp length.  
“But instead you’ve been watching people tying people up, haven’t you”, he whispers, sounding almost dangerous, dirty. He gets to palming Max slowly, with force, feeling him trying to grind against the pressure. “You’ve been watching... and imagining what it would be like with _me_.”

“Daniel…” gasps Max as a non-answer and bucks his hips, the movement tensing his arms and the tape as well. Daniel flashes a grin, an instinctive, irrational expression, like he’s drunk from sheer arousal.  
“Did you get off to that?” he asks and stills his hand, making Max groan and try to lift his arse to recreate the friction. This time, however, Daniel wants Max’s own answer to the question asked.  
“Did you, Max?” he repeats, his voice dripping power and lust.  
“ _Yes_ ”, breathes Max and arches his neck, as if ashamed, trying to hide his face. Daniel gasps and moves his hand once again, the fabric under his touch soaked and stretched.  
“ _Fuck_ ”, he whispers with feeling and leans to kiss Max so hard their teeth almost collide before rising and sitting back on his heels. He makes quick work of opening Max’s shorts, the patch of wetness clearly visible in the light fabric causing him to instinctively bite his lip in want.

“Up”, he says and gives Max’s waistband a couple of tugs at the same time to make his point. Max lifts his rear, legs trembling slightly; Daniel moves back as he pulls the shorts off him, tossing them somewhere not to be seen for a good long while. Max’s cock falls on his stomach, glistening wet and swollen, and Daniel curses under his breath just at the sight of that.  
“ _Jesus_ …”  
Max just groans in response and nudges his arse up again. Daniel leans on his arm and wraps his fingers almost tentatively around the base of Max’s length, making him cry out.  
“Oh God-”  
“Shit, Max”, chokes Daniel as he slides his hand up with ease. “You wouldn’t even need lube to fuck me.”

He’s in no hurry and takes his time to give the leaking tip of Max’s cock a couple of brushes with his thumb, just to see how Max reacts, before gliding his hand down again, settling to a leisurely rhythm. Max is panting loudly, eyes squeezed shut and pulling the bindings unknowingly, the tape wailing every now and then but holding.  
“Saves me time, y’ know”, murmurs Daniel teasingly, captivated by how wholly Max responds to his touch, “if you’ve already done some handiwork yourself at some point.”

He stills his hand quickly, fingers slick and shining, and shifts further back. He has sucked Max on many occasions before, of course, but this time there will be no restless fingers tangling in his hair, trying to guide him as they please; and the thought of getting to dictate what exactly will happen and _when_ makes Daniel grin to himself again. Jesus, his sweatpants must be a horrible mess too by now, sticking to him hot and damp, bulging obscenely.

He bows down and gives the tip just a small lick first, then elegantly circles his tongue around it, lapping the gushing pre-come, getting it on his chin. Max gasps and tries to buck his hips up, but Daniel puts a firm grip on his hip and manages to keep him mostly in place. He can’t suck Max and look at him at the same time, which is certainly a shame, but the way Max hisses _fffuck_ as Daniel mouths half of his length is perfectly satisfying as well and the mental images of what his face must look like vivid.

Daniel begins experimenting, taking all the time there is to be taken again; he licks his way up from Max’s balls, puts his tongue to work, tests how far in his mouth he is able take his teammate’s cock without gagging and finds that it actually is quite far if he tilts his head the right way. It’s like an X-rated science class where the aim is to find out how to best suck Max Verstappen, really, and Daniel is enjoying every thousandth of a second of it. He hears Max cry out, pant and curse, moan his name. He feels Max’s muscles getting restless, twitching, as if wordlessly begging on the brink of an orgasm - and then he suddenly stops altogether, raises his head, just lets Max’s cock drop heavily back against his stomach.

Max’s whole body snaps up from the bed in chase after the touch and a desperate wail rises from his throat, the headboard creaks and the tape squeaks as Max tosses and pulls and still the bindings made by Daniel endure. Daniel watches him like bewitched, awed by the state he is able to put Max in.  
“ _Daniel_ ”, breathes Max, lowers his back, and Daniel likes it when Max says his name like that - he really does, he’s always liked it, hearing how Max’s soft voice wraps itself around the letters in his name and reluctantly lets go after the ‘l’; and now even more, when that softness is mixed with sheer fuckery. Max knows he isn’t in the position to beg, but an almost inaudible _please_ still escapes from between his lips.  
“What’s that?” teases Daniel, sounding filthy. He lifts his hand and trails his fingers lightly over the porcelain of Max’s inner thigh. “Can I do something for you?”

He doesn’t stop to wait for an answer as he dips his head and goes again, mouthing Max as far as he can straight away and making Max groan and arch his torso from the bed in desperation, despite the restraints.  
“So good- I’m-”

Daniel stops the second time as he feels Max’s thighs starting to tremble and lifts his heated, black gaze to admire the outcome. Max bends like a drawn bow on the bed, mouth open but no sound coming out for a moment as Daniel denies him release yet again.  
“Fuck, Max”, Daniel whispers, almost in a trance.  
“ _Please_ , Daniel”, chokes Max, not being able to stop himself from pleading this time, his breathing reduced to shaky gasps and whimpers.

Daniel sits up and quickly grabs the lube from his pocket, snapping it open with well-trained fingers. There is no need to warm the stuff up anymore, the tube having been in Daniel’s trouser pocket and thus right in the middle of the action for the whole time; and Daniel is quickly ready, hand glistening with the mixture of lube and Max’s fluids.  
“I’m going to fuck you so hard later.”  
There, now it's out in the open. Max can’t even respond to Daniel’s dirty talk anymore, feeling like not only all of his strength but also all of his brains have long since oozed out of him along with sweat and precome. Daniel leans against Max’s thighs to get a better angle, Max’s arse tilting up as a result, and quite effortlessly slips one finger inside him.

“Fuck-!”  
Max groans and pulls his bindings with such force that the tape bites into the skin of his wrists with a creak and the headboard objects again, he would buck his hips _so_ far up if it wasn’t for Daniel keeping him down with his weight.  
“ _Not yet_ ”, answers Daniel, voice drenched in lust. He waits for Max to calm and settle, to get on top of the situation - pun intended - of having Daniel’s finger inside him, before moving slightly back again, his current position not allowing for what he has in mind. And then he goes down on Max for the third time, the science experiment continuing with exploring the effects of giving head and finger-fucking at the same time.

Max moans so loudly as Daniel mouths almost the whole length of his cock once more that it briefly crosses Daniel’s mind whether someone actually hears them; but at the same time he couldn’t care any less than he does now because _God_ , being able to extract that kind of sounds from Max just heats him up even more. It takes all the coordinating abilities of a skilled Formula 1 driver, being able to both suck Max and finger him at the same time, and Daniel knows he can’t do it for long if he still wants to prolong Max’s, well, torments, but he swears it’s still one of the filthiest, best things he’s ever done in bed. Or in any other place he’s had sex in.  
“Dan…” whimpers Max, again starting to twitch and spasm uncontrollably, the top of his cock almost hitting the back of Daniel’s throat as his hips involuntarily try to shoot up; and Daniel swiftly raises his head _again_ , the finger still inside Max stilling in place.  
“What?” he asks, acting horribly oblivious despite his rough-edged voice. “Is there something you need?”

Max lets out an indescribable noise, something between a chuckle and a long, desperate sob and just a gasp for air.  
“I’m… ohhh shit, I’m- going to kill you…”  
“Not if I fuck you senseless first”, mutters Daniel, testingly moving his finger inside Max once more, slightly curling it and marveling at how he literally sees Max’s cock twitch at that and his back bend again. Daniel’s own crotch has been beyond ready for action for a vast majority of the time they’ve spent on the bed, his cock throbbing painfully in his undoubtedly soaked boxers; but the pleasure of having Max so deliciously at his mercy should be more than enough to make up for his cock for not having gotten buried in Max’s heat during only the first three minutes of the encounter.

Daniel slips the finger out of Max, drawing a wail out of him as well but this time letting him jerk his hips as he pleases, and shifts to finally squirm out of his useless and unbelievably messy sweatpants and boxers. He throws the pile of fabric and sweat and overall wetness somewhere on the floor impatiently and grabs the lube from the corner of the bed, vaguely amazed that it hasn’t dropped to the floor as well at this point since he hasn’t exactly remembered to be careful about that. He glances at Max’s face, stopping for a moment to observe how his head is tilted back, eyes closed, reddened chest rising and sinking as he tries to somewhat breathe.  
“Max”, he says softly while he squeezes some of the clear liquid on his palm and tosses the tube in _a_ direction, not bothering to scramble to place it neatly on the nightstand anymore. “Look at me.”

Max forces his eyes open as he obeys Daniel once again, and Daniel can’t help thinking that Max right at this moment is one of the most gorgeous things he has ever laid his eyes on. His eyes glimmer with desire and heat, lips shudder with every harsh breath he takes, his neck pulsating to the rhythm of his rapid heartbeat shimmers with sweat and his cock hangs against his stomach dripping and desperate. Daniel suddenly feels like he can’t wait to get to kiss him again, he would instantly stretch himself to do that if his palm wasn’t inconveniently filled with lube.  
“You’re unbelievable” is the only thing he can bring himself to say before he moves his arm, making sure Max is watching, and grabs his cock, gasping involuntarily at the long-awaited sensation of friction. Max’s eyes widen and mouth gapes as he realizes Daniel is offering him a front row view of, _y’ know_ , himself, getting ready to fuck him.  
“Daniel”, breathes Max without really noticing it himself, giving his dry lips a small lick as he stares at Daniel slowly stroking himself like hypnotized. “Oh my God.”

Daniel bites his lip hard, he doesn’t really need much preparing at all and also can’t afford letting himself beyond the point of no return, this is merely just for show; he’s pretty convinced it would be the death of both of them if he was to come in his _own fist_ after everything like an overly hormonal teenager.  
“You ready?” he murmurs, wanting to make sure despite Max telling him to do what he wants. He doesn’t want to ruin everything by accidentally jerking himself off, yeah, but he’s close enough to his right mind to know that he definitely likes the idea of ruining everything by being a careless and in the worst case hurtful asshole even less.  
“Since I texted you”, manages Max to gasp, and a wide grin crosses Daniel’s face. “ _Please_ just fuck me.”

Daniel leans against the backs of Max’s thighs once more and lowers himself to loom over Max’s stomach again, not breaking eye contact. Max gazes straight into Daniel’s black eyes, plunges into the depths of them, feeling like he’s floating above the bed, head swaying - until Daniel carefully enters him and everything turns upside down.

They both cry out simultaneously, not even Daniel being able to hold it back anymore, not even trying anymore. It takes all of his faltering patience to not thrust all the way in at once; the pleasure of teasing Max has surely taken its toll on Daniel as well, driving him closer and closer to the edge all the time. But he wills himself to still for a moment, to look up at Max and map his reactions, and his mouth opens in pure marvel. Max’s bent, heaving chest glows with sweat and sex and his arms are tensed, the outlines of his muscles drawn in detail under his skin; and the tape has bitten into his wrists, stretched and faintly shimmering.  
“Max…” chokes Daniel, now almost on the verge of pleading himself, praying for any sign that he can continue, the slick heat around his cock is sure to kill him if he can’t move soon. Max pants heavily but lowers his back again as a response, knowing what Daniel is asking for and gradually calming underneath him.

And that’s enough; Daniel pulls back a bit and then goes slowly in again, all the way until bottoming out, all tentatively at first but soon finding a quickening rhythm and taking Max with him. They are so far beyond all the limits already that it doesn’t take long for Daniel to start feeling the familiar waves of heat, the pins and needles in his legs, that precede the inevitable fall. But it doesn’t matter, nothing matters anymore besides this, him and Max, the fuckfest is well over its fifth minute anyway; it started with Daniel wrapping black bondage tape around Max’s wrists and it ends with Daniel wrapping his fingers around Max’s cock, willing to finally give in to him.  
“Come for me”, he whispers, as if it was his final order.

Max simply breaks apart, he comes so hard it feels like the orgasm Daniel finally permits him completely shatters him, and it drives Daniel to his own end as well. He spills inside of Max as Max spills over his own stomach and Daniel’s hand, and for a moment they are both nothing more than panting piles of limp muscle and jolts of aftershocks.

It takes a while for Daniel to gather enough strength to pull out of Max, his limbs feeling featherlight and unbelievably heavy at the same time. The urge to just fall on his side and curl up against Max is almost overpowering, it must be bliss, just lying there and catching his breath; but with the ability to move he luckily also gathers enough brains to not let Max’s arms fall off because of his hands being tied to the headboard for too long. He stretches himself over Max and tries to reach the scissors like that at first, but they’re just a tad too far, and it’s not like he can just crash on top of Max after cutting the tapes even if he did succeed anyway. He crawls clumsily over Max’s thigh, grabs the scissors and manages to not severe Max while cutting the tape, despite his fingers shaking so badly he’s slightly nervous about actually handling sharp objects and wondering whether he’ll accidentally chop half of Max’s fingers off in the process. 

“Shit, Max”, he murmurs as the markings the tape has left on Max’s skin are slowly revealed. Max half-opens his eyes, even his lids feeling sluggish, and Daniel takes his hand and gently moves it so that Max can see the dark red indentations tattooed on his wrists himself.  
“Oh my God”, gasps Max at the sight as well. “I didn’t even notice…”  
“You didn’t?” asks Daniel in his familiar, teasing tone again, gently helping Max to lower his arms and rest his hands comfortably on his stomach. “You enjoyed yourself so much you completely forgot about your hands almost getting sawn off?”  
Max snorts and blushes, if possible, even more. “It was good, yeah”, he says, by which he of course means _you pretty much fucked me to heaven and back and we’ll have to do this again_.  
Daniel chuckles and places a kiss on Max’s forehead before finally lowering himself onto his side and leaning on his elbow, carefully pressing against Max and wrapping his other arm around his waist.  
“Well, I… certainly got the impression that it wasn’t awful all the time.”

Max just grins and hums satisfiedly, rolls onto his side as well in spite of the slight difficulty of the movement, and they go quiet for a moment, chest against chest, a warm silence surrounding and blanketing them. Max’s eyes force themselves shut again and Daniel keeps stroking his back with his thumb, tries not to get too lost in the contents of his mind but finds himself inevitably having more thoughts than he surely intended; and suddenly there’s a strange feeling of burning in his throat. 

Max's eyes flutter open and he slowly lifts his hand to touch Daniel’s face. Daniel feels he is being strangled as he’s met by Max’s drowsy gaze.  
“I wish you would stay”, says Max in a hushed, dreamy voice, lazily caressing Daniel’s cheek with his fingertips. “I understand you, but… I’m really going to miss you, you know. I won’t be able to help it.”  
Daniel smiles fondly at Max, there’s a gleam in his eyes that Max doesn’t recognize, not immediately at least. “You didn’t do all this just to try and turn my head around, did you?” he murmurs while edging his thumb along Max’s jaw.  
“No, idiot”, snorts Max, and then he suddenly flashes a smile that matches Daniel’s. “It would have been a good one, though. If you decided to stay after all just because I let you tie me up and have your way with me. Imagine Cyril’s face if you went and told him that."

Daniel chuckles lightly; and then tightens his grip on Max in a determined effort to pull him even closer, wishing he could embrace Max so tightly that their bodies would merge into one.  
“I hope you know that… “ he starts, his voice merely more than a hoarse whisper. “I’ve said that I feel like there’s things that I need to change, and I still think that… but it’s not you that needs changing. It’s one-hundred percent not you. Okay?”  
His gaze still shimmers as he leans closer, breathing on Max’s lips. “ _This_ isn’t going to change, you and I. I’ll make sure of that.”

Max lets out a contented sigh, a breath of air kept firmly confined in his lungs; they have been through this, time and time again, but he can’t deny it still feels good to hear Daniel say it once more.  
“Well, it always takes two, so… I’ll do that as well.”  
“There’s still also some of that tape of yours left, y’ know”, continues Daniel, ever a slave to the habit of joking, as his voice gradually starts to crackle and the shimmer pools in the corners of his eyes. “It would definitely be a shame if we didn’t use the rest of it at some point.”  
“Daniel”, interrupts Max, serious and gentle and certainly seeing through the other’s attempt at a needless façade. “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay. I love you.”

Daniel kisses him hard with the tears already rolling down his cheeks; and then he buries his face against his teammate’s shoulder and breaks down. He cries out of sadness and out of love, lets himself finally sink into it, lets everything there is left out with harsh, violent sobs and choked gasps, everything that talking or heady sex or two beers can't rid. Max strokes his hair, tangles his fingers through the messy mop of it over and over again as all the rest of Daniel’s stress and restlessness and tiredness wash over him, plants small kisses in the curls and leaves behind a teardrop or two himself while doing so. They glimmer in the midst of Daniel’s hair for a moment before disappearing.

  



End file.
